Gone Away ~ The journal of Clive Allen in America

That Good, Red Dirt...
04/11/2005

In Bluegrass in Duncan, I wrote of my first visit to Duncan, a little town about thirty miles from Lawton. During the summer we had occasion to visit it a few more times and I became familiar with that stretch of the plains that we passed through on the way.

It is very flat, just as one would expect a plain to be. The natural vegetation is dry, short grass with the occasional group of trees lining the creeks and collecting in hollows. Most of it is ranch land with very few fields plowed for crop production and it reminds me of Africa, even down to the red dirt that shows through the grass in eroded areas.

It could so easily be somewhere in Zimbabwe, even though the trees are not acacias and the dirt is a paler red than I remember, that good red dirt of Africa. And it is good; the soil is so fertile that almost anything will grow in it. Throw a tomato away and a few weeks later the spot where it landed will be covered in tomato plants laden with fruit. Plant a few potatoes in rows and water them and very soon you will have more spuds than you can eat. Beans, squashes, cucumbers, any sort of vegetable takes to the earth of Africa as though it was designed for it. Fruit trees love it too and I have yet to find an avocado pear to rival those we picked from the tree in my father's garden in Harare.

This is the great tragedy of Africa: that it has become the continent of famine when all the time its soil is so fertile that it should be the breadbasket of the world, exporting food rather than begging for it. And the reason is water, of course. With water, anything can be grown in Africa; without it, you have a potential desert. There are times when the rains don't arrive and the result is drought and death for the crops.

In Zimbabwe, the farmers made provision for this. Every farm had its few small dams that stored water in the good years in preparation for the bad. Generally, that was enough to hold off the destruction that a couple of drought years in succession can wreak. The result was that Zimbabwe became a food exporter, selling maize and other foodstuffs to many other African countries, even though the major cash crop was tobacco.

Since then things have changed and Zimbabwe has joined most of the rest of Africa in hovering on the edge of perpetual famine. The farmers have been driven from the land and dispersed throughout the world, most to South Africa and Australia. And the land reverts to bush or subsistence farming.

All this comes back to me as we drive through the plains and I see the boundless expanse of land barely used. West Oklahoma is not rich, being without the oil wells and higher rainfall of the East, yet I cannot help but wonder whether its real wealth is being overlooked. That soil looks to me very much like the good, red dirt of Africa. It is grassland soil, just waiting for water to complete its fertility.

Suddenly two things click together in my mind and I have a dream, a dream of what might have been. All those Zimbabwe farmers, forced to leave the lands they loved, taking with them their knowledge and experience of getting the best from dry grassland soils, and this land in West Oklahoma, begging to achieve its potential...

What a marriage made in heaven that might have been, the African farmer and the good, red dirt of Oklahoma! It is too late now to call them back, but I am certain that those weathered and leathery hands could have turned these empty fields into a cornucopia of produce. Then might Idaho have been forced to look to its laurels as the great potato producer of the States. California, too, would have had to watch over its shoulder as the citrus farmers of OK gained ground on them. I might even have been able to buy a decent avocado in the supermarket, rather than these pathetic, tasteless and tiny imitations that are fobbed off on us at the moment.

I know, I'm a dreamer. But, if no-one dreams, nothing ever changes. Allow me this one vision of how things might have been. Sure, I know that there are plenty of arguments that could be made against such a scheme, but none insurmountable. It could have worked.

Who knows? Those old guys might have produced enough food to feed Africa...

Clive

melly
I may say you're a dreamer, John... I mean, Clive ;)

I love avocado, and if we could get up here some of that 'dreamy' avocado of yours, then I'm a supporter and you're not the only one...
Date Added: 04/11/2005

Gone Away
Dreamy avocado indeed, Melly. In England all the stores sold were avos from Israel - hard, insipid things about half the size of the ones I was so used to. When I came to the States, I thought that at last I'd be able to have a decent avo again. But no, the ones they sell here (from Mexico, I think) are not much better than those in England. Oh, how I wish I had a couple of seeds from a good Zimbabwean avo tree...

Love the Lennon echoes, by the way! ;)
Date Added: 04/11/2005

Ken
There's some interesting thematic weaving going on in this piece, Gone Away. On the one hand, it's about geo-politics, nostalgia and love of a place that's been left behind (Remember: "I had a farm in Africa"?), farming, the relative merits of different places as avocado producers, potato growing in Idaho and elsewhere, irrigation and water conservation, where you live now ... but on the other, its about memory and dreaming. Really fascinating reading. And since you mention Lennon echoes ... You're not the only one ... Definitely!
Date Added: 04/11/2005

Mad
Aaah african avos! Ooh and mealies too!
Date Added: 04/11/2005

Gone Away
Thank you, Ken, I appreciate your comments greatly. This one I have pondered for some time now as I felt it might be a little too weird. But you make me glad that I dared it. Yes, it contains many threads and is enhanced by Melly's Lennon addition. This blogging business really surprises me at times... :)

And yes, I do remember I Had a Farm in Africa - you can imagine the nostalgia it was for me to watch that. ;)
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Gone Away
Psst, Mad, they grow mealies here too. And d'you know what they do with them? Feed them to cattle, that's what! They only eat sweetcorn themselves. Now how weird is that?
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Twelvebirds
I hear from this post a sadness at the thought of wasted potential. War and civil strife destroy so much of what is good and stifle possibilities.

I like the way you take us on this journey of your thought processes, starting with a drive through the countryside of Oklahoma and ending with a farmer exchange program. Interesting thoughts, definitely interesting.
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Gone Away
You have seen through to matters I did not state overtly, Twelve: that the destruction of Zimbabwean farming was caused by war and civil strife. All true and such a waste of what was good.
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Matt
I had a friend once. He was from Africa. I am afraid it has slipped my mind, which country. But he was an old man, and I was a kid at the time. Maybe 10. He lived down the street from me and spoke English in that heavily accented way that would let everyone know that he was not from here. I used to like to go sit on his porch and talk to him about things.

When you mentioned the "leathery hands" it reminded me of him because I always will remember how strong and hard his hands seemed to me then, and how the contrast of the lighter callouses against his darker skin seemed to hold the stories that he told locked inside them.

I wish that I could remember more of his words than I do. I don't know how he found his way here to America. As a kid, I didn't care about that. I only liked to hear his stories and he listened and spoke to me as though I was an equal, which so few adults do with kids of that age. I wish now that I knew more about him, or that I had asked more questions.
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Gone Away
What a wonderful story, Matt! Every kid should have someone like that old guy to weave stories for them. We are the sum of the pasts of our ancestors and this is how that history has always been passed down through the generations. And you're right - the past is in the hands...
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Matt
Yeah, I have been blessed in my life with several mentor types whom I will cherish the memory of. There was another old guy, named Mr. Ellis (that's all I ever called him, though I'm sure he had a first name LOL) who I used to go and play checkers with after school or on weekends when the other kids in my neighborhood weren't around. He was just fun to be with. He wasn't so much a story teller as a teacher. He taught me how to care for citrus trees (well, he tried to.... I've never had a green thumb) and how to build things and use power tools without cutting your fingers off... stuff like that. I remember going to his house when it was time to pick the oranges from his huge orange tree, which was always weighted down with fruit and he would use the orange picking stick thingie and I would climb up to get the highest ones from the tree, and we would have bags and bags and bags of oranges which we would then bring around the block to some of the other older people that were his other friends. I had many a cool lemonade or iced tea or milk and cookies on those distribution trips and listened to many a discussion about heart or liver problems or how someone knew Frank Sinatra "back home" (every old Italian guy has a Sinatra story, it seems). And he always gave me Charles Chips pretzels (which then were still delivered in the big tins by a guy in the Charles Chips truck). He passed away one year while I still lived there and another old man moved into his house some months later. He didn't take care of Mr. Ellis' orange tree and though I offered, he was a crotchety old guy and wouldn't let me help him. I hated riding past there on my bike and smelling the rotting oranges. I could imagine what Mr. Ellis would say: "A crying shame, that is, letting that tree go like that", he'd say. A lot of things were a crying shame. LOL.
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Gone Away
Ah, memories. They call childhood the formative years. For once, I think "they" got it right. :)
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Dillon
Hardship teaches us things that comfort never could. To be a farmer is to have to make your life, it isn't the easy life of showing up at a job with a set schedule and an expected workload. We can show up for life or we can make it happen. I met a man from Zimbabwe once. The war in his country had taken his father from him, and yet despite the tragedy in his life, he always wore the biggest smile I have ever seen. He had a determination in his spirit to choose his path and to find the joyous and to build his life upon that. I think such a spirit could grow a crop in a desert.
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Gone Away
I knew a man in Zimbabwe who could have been the father of that son you speak of, Phil. Perhaps it is time for me to tell his story.
Date Added: 05/11/2005

Jonathan
You are a marvelous writer. Many years ago, when I was sixteen, my doctor father took over a bush hospital in the northeastern area of Tanzania up near the Burundi border. We lived there for three years. It is a pity that a continent so vast and so resource rich seems destined for continued poverty. It’s a nice dream you have.
Date Added: 06/11/2005

Gone Away
Thank you, Jonathan. As you say, it is a great pity that Africa seems unable to climb out of the pit of poverty it has dug for itself. And a pity, too, that I found out about Oklahoma too late to mention it to any of the farmers I knew...
Date Added: 06/11/2005

John (Syntagma)
Zimbabwe is really a tragedy of man's making. Fantasy political agendas winning over the reality of nature. It's hard to believe it could have gone so pear-shaped (so to speak) in such a short time, or that the politicians who were prepared to invade Iraq and Afghanistan, are seemingly helpless to intervene.

Those British farmers who formerly worked the land there were certainly the salt of the earth. Tough, resourceful, hard-working, they would be an adornment to any nation or state. Unfortunately, our polically-correct leaders, who wouldn't know a plough (plow) from a cow, hold them in scant respect. We have red dirt in Devon too, Clive. It's one of the main characteristics here. And we produce the best dairy products in the world from lush grazing. Of course, we get a lot of rain.
Date Added: 06/11/2005

Gone Away
Of course, John; rain is England's speciality, isn't it? ;)

I have purposely avoided saying anything about Zimbabwe's political problems in this blog, not wanting to stir up old animosities and lost causes. All the time I was in England, I tried not to think about what was happening in the country of my teenage years and twenties; it was just too painful to watch. But Dillon's comment (not Phil Dillon as I mistakenly assumed before I looked at the email address) has made me realise that there are things that I'd like to say. I am considering doing a series on Zimbabwe, both its past and present trials.

As for intervention by the great powers, the answer is simple: Zimbabwe has no oil... ;)
Date Added: 06/11/2005

Ken
I can indeed. That kind of deep feeling for a past life is one of the advantages of age, don't you think? So many wonderful memories and much less of the future to be fussed about.
Date Added: 07/11/2005

Gone Away
Indeed so, Ken. And very well put, if I may say so.
Date Added: 07/11/2005

Oju Kemenyi
Great words, you address the nostalgia and the tragedy of Zimbabwe.......but remember that your idyllic existence came at a cost. Whether of course that price was worth paying as long as famine was avoided is a question for another day, another place....aand for the Zimbabwean people themselves There are Zimbabwean farmers in Nigeria now, though...we'll see how they fare
Date Added: 08/11/2005

Gone Away
I am always aware that my childhood was privileged by being in Africa, Oju. And I know too that there were inequalities that needed addressing, just as you say. However, to destroy the system that creates the wealth that might have been shared is hardly the way to go about making things better for anyone. In Zimbabwe we had a chance to build a genuinely multiracial state that was fair to everyone, instead of which, the politicians have created a land of genocide, famine and death. Weep for my country.

It is good to hear that there are Zimbabwean farmers in Nigeria now. God bless Nigeria for taking them in.
Date Added: 08/11/2005

Janus
Its a dream yes, but might be one I wouldn't want to wake from either. :)
Date Added: 09/11/2005

Janus
Its a dream yes, but might be one I wouldn't want to wake from either. :)
Date Added: 09/11/2005

Gone Away
Maybe I'm not so crazy after all...
Date Added: 09/11/2005

Back to the main blog

Have your say

You may use HTML in comments. A carriage return is <br />, use two for a new paragraph. For bold text use <strong></strong> and for italic text use <em></em>. If you know what you're doing feel free to use more complex mark-up but please no deprecated tags or JavaScript.

Name *

Comment *

Email *

URL

Commenting has closed for this post

 

Plan your next journey with
Price Comparison UK
Copyright disclaimersXHTML 1.0CCS2RSS for news aggregators